


A Thousand Years

by FlashySyren



Series: A Thousand Years [1]
Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, I just really wanted to write Thor/Sif smut okay?, OKAY., porn with a little plot, post TDW, reconcilliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-11 23:44:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2087523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlashySyren/pseuds/FlashySyren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor returns from Midgard, but there's one person who isn't quite ready to welcome him back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Thousand Years

A curtain of ebony swung across her shoulder as she pivoted, blade swiping in a perfect arc toward an enemy that only Lady Sif could see. As had been for centuries, her form was flawless, swift and smooth with a warrior’s grace unknown to most of the men she shared a battle cry with. She was upset at him, not outwardly, but he could feel it in the space between them, cold ashes where once a fire had burned.

An eternal fire, Thor had thought, bright and dangerous, but ever warm. Though Sif could be as cold as a Jötunheim wind in the face of her foes, it was not the same with him. Even highly offended, he had been able to feel the heat between them. That absence of flame was disconcerting to say the least, Thor couldn’t help but reflect upon what it might have been that turned him from one of her most trusted companions—maybe something even greater than that if he allowed himself to speculate—to receiving indifference akin to what he saw when watching Sif deal with a foreign dignitary.

He watched her, and she ignored him, kicking up puffs of dust with her footwork, blade catching the sun as she moved, changing stances with such ease to mislead a bystander into believing that what she had accomplished in the training sands was a feat reachable by anyone. Yet he knew, and more importantly, she knew that it was the centuries of determined training, of picking herself up every time she fell, and ignoring the words that cut deeper than any training sword could, that had gotten her to this point. Still she trained, determined to find a level even greater than that which she’d reached. He admired that of her, Lady Sif would never rest on past accomplishment, she would fight until her last breath.

Thor could abide many things, but being ignored was one that had never sat easily, one of Loki’s favorite punishments for his elder brother, it annoyed him then, and did so now as well. To receive not even a greeting as simple as brief eye contact, but complete absence of acknowledgement.

Shifting his stance he moved closer, in case she truly had been so lost to her training that she missed his presence, but, though he told himself that could be a possibility, he knew it wasn’t. Sif knew what was going on around her always. It was what kept her alive for so long.

Her blade swung perilously close to where he stood, and still she did not look at him, crossing her feet to block an attack that might come from behind were she in actual battle, and with a soft growl he turned away to collect a training sword for himself.

If he could have been watching her as he did, he might have seen the smallest of smiles, tugging at the corner of her lips. It was for the best, perhaps, that he didn’t as the flash of teeth that followed made the expression anything but friendly.

Knowing the sequence of steps she followed as well as any dance, Thor stepped in, prepared to bock her next strike, making himself the stand in for whatever foe she pictured in her mind, but rather than continue as she had been, Sif changed directions, shifting her stance and swinging low at his unguarded legs. He made a sound of surprise and jumped aside, opening himself up and Sif took the opportunity, attacking aggressively to drive him back.

It succeeded, forcing him on the defensive, trying to keep adequate space between them and blocking, blocking, but he was far too seasoned in battle to remain so off balance for long.

Their blades locked and Thor should have seen it coming as he tried to use the position to push her back. Sif’s left hand shot up under the pommel of his, closing around the short part of the grip, and pushed it upward, bringing his blade down, horizontal, then pointed to the ground before she gained greater hold on it and twisted his wrist too far for him to maintain his hold. Knowing that she would not halt the motion of the blade, he threw himself backward onto the ground to escape the sweeping strike that followed, and a moment later, Sif stood, looking down at him, both blades crossed over his neck.

“Yield.” He rasped, and the swords were removed.

She smiled at him, offering a hand, but it did not go unnoticed that expression did not quite reach her eyes. He allowed her to help him to his feet, and placed a large hand over her shoulder, feeling the sun-heated metal burn his palm.

“It seems I’ve gone too long without training with a sword.”

A scoff as she handed the sword back to him, grip-first. “You have always preferred hammer or axe.”

“Indeed, so.” He sighed and took it, holding it down at his side, his hand tightening on her shoulder as she moved to turn away. “May we speak?”

She hesitated, looking back at him, and he was struck by how beautiful she was. Why had he never realized that before? “What do you wish to speak of, my Prince?” He thought he heard something like resignation in her voice, but she was back to being formal, her face unreadable.

“We’ve been friends for too long for such formalities, Sif.”

“Is that what we are? Friends? I’ve seen nothing for me to believe that is true, not in years.” He finally saw something besides indifference in her eyes, but he didn’t like what it was.

“I never forgot about you.”

He withdrew his hand as she pulled away as if she’d been stung.

“That’s all the Heimdall would tell me when I asked about you. ‘He’s happy’, he would say, and, ‘he’ll never forget about you’.” The betrayal he had seen turned to grief, and she did turn away this time. Thor knew her well enough to understand that she wasn’t running from him, but hiding her emotions.

Thor reached for her sword, but she yanked it away, returning it to its sheath without looking at him, and he moved around her so that he was looking down at a crown of raven braids. He dropped his weapon, cupping her jaw to tilt her face upwards.

“—Sif.” He rumbled softly as her expression hardened.

“Don’t.” She tried to pull away again, but he held her there, his other arm settling across the small of her back to tug her closer.

“Don’t what?” Thor whispered, his lips brushing hers.

Emotions flickered across her features so quickly he couldn’t identify them, and a tear spilled over from one too-bright eye.

“I’m not her, Thor. I’ll not be your….. substitute.”

“Substitute?” He swiped his thumb across her cheekbone to wipe the tear away. “You could never fill her place in my heart.” Expecting her reaction, his grip on her tightened as she splayed her hands against his chest to shove him back. “ _Yet_ ,” He continued as if it hadn’t happened at all. “Neither could she ever fill _your_ place in my heart.” He let go of her then, brushing her hair back behind her shoulder as he did. “I am no more the man who abdicated the throne, than I am the one who led his friends into Jötunheim. I know that I’ve hurt you, Sif. I’m not asking for forgiveness, just a chance to make it up to you.”

“If that’s true,” Sif took a step back. “then what makes you so sure that I am the same woman you walked away from when you left? I would have done anything for you then, but I can’t say that’s the truth now.”

“Look at me, then. Look at me and tell me that you love me no longer and I will never trouble you with this again.” Thor wanted to touch her again, to draw her close, and hold her, but didn’t dare, not just yet.

“My heart has no place in this?” She whispered.

“Doesn’t it?”

“You didn’t want it. I gave you my friendship, my loyalty. Everyone in this realm knew you held my heart in your hands, but it wasn’t what you wanted.”

He watched her swallow, another tear race down her cheek. “In my absence I learned how much I relied on you for company… how much joy you brought me.”

Sif wiped her face with the back of her fingers. “In your absence I counted my follies, and loving you was the greatest of them.”

“And yet you still love me.” It wasn’t a question. “You could not be this hurt otherwise.”

“I always will.”

“I was a fool for being unable to see.” He murmured, closing the distance between them, his hand slipping into her hair to tilt her head with his thumb beneath her jaw.

She met his kiss, and he pulled her closer. She tasted of salt as her lips parted for him, their kiss deeper, more desperate. Her teeth caught his lip, evoking a growl. Pulling back, he intended to slow things down a little, wanting to give her something more than a romp in the dirt, but before he could speak, her hands had found the laces of his breeches, knuckles brushing his growing erection as she tugged at them.

In one quick movement, his hands sought her ass before sliding a bit lower to boost her up, and Sif wrapped her legs around his waist.

“Norns below, Sif…” He breathed while she nuzzled his throat, teeth finding his pulse before sinking into his flesh. Thor shuddered as she sucked hard, raising blood to the surface. He’d be surprised if she didn’t break the skin.

The weapon storage was several paces away, but the distance was crossed quickly enough that Sif gasped in surprise as her back hit the gilded wall. He chuckled lowly, a rumble in his chest, and felt his arousal spike at the way her lips parted when she moaned.

Her armor was an issue, causing difficulty in getting at her leggings, and he was forced to place her feet back on the ground to relieve her of her chestplate and tassets. She reached for the clasps, and he let her at them, his fingers hooking into the waistband of her pants the moment it was visible. Her armor clanked as it hit the ground, but he barely noticed as he was palming her soaked folds, one finger tracing her slit and seeking her clit.

He withdrew his hand, smirking smugly at her sound of disapproval, and moved to lift her again before realizing that he would have to strip her entirely for her to wrap her legs around him again. His frustration was short-lived, however, turning her around before freeing his aching length from his breeches.

If she was going to deny him, this was her last chance. A part of him expected her to, it wasn’t as if he was treating her the way he’d imagined he would. She deserved to be worshiped after everything, and this couldn’t be any farther from that. Rather than protest, however, she leaned into the wall, presenting herself to him.

Unable to resist, he sank two fingers into her soaking core, cursing softly at how the heat of her closed around him. His erection twitched in his hand, and he removed his fingers, grabbing her hip to steady her as he pushed deeply.

Sif’s nails scraped against the wall as he set a rhythm, the both of them only vaguely aware of the possibility that someone could wander by. She was too hot, too tight, and made things no easier with the way she rocked back against him, at this rate he wasn’t going to last much longer. In an effort to ensure she came as well, he reached around, seeking her clit.

He found it, flicking and pinching in uneven rhythm until she shuddered, crying out her climax, and as her body clenched, the pleasure he had been fighting to hold back, washed over him. His thrusts stuttered, sinking into her one final time as he released deep within her.

Thor brushed her hair aside to press a kiss to the back of her neck, and pulled out, tucking himself away. He watched her, a little concerned when she didn’t move at first, but then she slowly bent to pull her small clothes, then leggings up, straightening before she turned around to look at him.

Her expression was shuttered, and he knew for certain that he’d made a mistake. “I’m sorry, Sif.” He intoned quietly, bending close to draw her to him. Her breath ghosted against the bruise she’d marked him with, her own arms moving to embrace him, and he breathed deeply the scent of sweat and dust, sex and Sif. His heart thumped in his chest, afraid of what she would say.

“This doesn’t fix everything, Thor. Don’t make me regret it.” She shifted, her hand slipping into his hair to tip his head down where she could lean her forehead to his. Hazel seeking blue, the smallest of smiles finally visible in their depths. “Also, do not assume that you are finished.”

“You will not regret it, beloved.” He promised, relief washing over him, and this time it was his eyes that stung with tears. “I swear it, and I promise you that we are far from finished.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm way more proud of the fighting sequence than I am the smut, but I've been trying and failing to write this for way too long. I love Thor and Sif together, but with the way things are going in the MCU, it makes shipping them so much harder.
> 
> Speaking of the fighting sequence, the move Sif makes to disarm Thor is based on [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QymWhvZSIV8) technique.
> 
> As always, my work is not beta'd, I apologize for any mistakes I've left in this, and I will try and fix any that I find, and of course, all the characters herein belong to Marvel.


End file.
